Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,3
I’ll do it.” The last thing I want is her falling.
She ignores me. “Count.” She reaches the suitcase and slides it halfway out before stopping and glancing at me.
“One, two, three…” I take a step back as I count and watch Breda pull down the suitcase. She takes it to my bed and opens it before returning to my wardrobe.
I’m still counting as she starts placing my dresses in the suitcase. My counting ceases, but she doesn’t.
“He’s a Northerner.”
Now she stops, holding a bundle of dresses that are still on their hangers.
“You know what they are like,” I add.
Conflict clouds Breda’s already pale eyes. I notice the change as she stands straighter and grips the hangers tighter. “A man is a man, no matter where he comes from. He’s still a man.”
Frustration claws at my insides. “I don’t understand. They are the enemy.”
Breda places my dresses in the suitcase. “It might be a challenge from God. To love thy enemies.”
What a crock of shit. I’m moving again.
“God isn’t handing me over to the Northerners. God isn’t going to rape me.”
Breda holds her hands in the air and waves them close to her ears like she can brush away my words. “Don’t say such things.”
“What? In case I anger God?” My rage is encasing me, and I can’t breathe.
“Stop it, Emma.” Breda’s voice holds the authority that normally shuts me up but not this time.
“What can God do? He took a mother from me. What else can he take?”
“Noel.” Breda’s one word has dread threading itself through my veins, not Noel.
“Now. Count while I pack.” She returns to the wardrobe, and I return to counting as my mind buzzes with a fear that has me vowing one thing. No matter what happens from here on in, I will fight the Northerner with everything in me. My dad says I have my mother’s temper; well, I’ll use that to my advantage.
“Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six….”
CHAPTER TWO
SHAY
There is an electricity in the air that pulses all by itself. Everything in me is tight, ready to snap back into place, but I hold it still as I move through the roaring crowd. Hands reach out and touch my bare back. I’m aware of their hands but don’t feel their touch.
“Are you sure about this, King?” Amanda grins as she holds open the cage door. She doesn’t give a fuck if I step in and never step out again. Her long, plaited hair swings back and forth as she pushes the crowd back with leather-clad hands.
I don’t answer her, and her laughter trails in behind me before the gate is slammed shut. I know the noise of the lock by now. I’ve heard it too many times before.
The floor is still wet from the last fight. Blood that didn’t get washed away in the rushed preparations for my fight still soaks the ground beneath my feet. I hop from foot-to-foot to keep the tightness in my body there. I’ve wrapped my hands lightly, but not too much that I don’t feel the burn of each thump.
My opponent steps into the cage from the opposite door, his head is covered with a leather mask. I continue to hop from side-to-side as the noise swells and squeezes between the small open squares in the cage walls, pouring itself over us and sending the excitement into our veins.
Amanda is roaring into her microphone, but I’m fucking moving. I need to unleash all that burns me up inside. My fist hits the leather of his head, and he shakes from side-to-side before his back collides with the cage. The roars grow wilder, and I don’t stop as I pound his face in. My skin splits. My hands beg me to stop at the assault on my flesh, but I can’t. I won’t. Something in me has taken over. And it’s hell-bent on destroying the giant who pushes off the side of the cage and roars.
I grin. That a boy.
Gravity doesn’t exist, and I’m airborne, but it grips me by the throat and slams me into the ground. The back of my skull bounces off the cement floor, the pain is like ice-cold water flushing through my system, and I’m fucking alive as my teeth slam down on my tongue. I roll, letting the blood pour from my mouth. I have a moment when I look up and see Amanda rolling her eyes at me before the ground shifts, and I’m in the air before the giant slings me across his shoulder.